Beaten Down
by Dobokoyuramon
Summary: R for language and violence. This story focuses on Bryan during Tekken Tournament 4. Yoshimitsu tries to convine Bryan to help him and the doctor...For Bryan fans, ie me. Also stars Hwoarang.
1. First Encounter of the Manji Kind

            Bryan drew in another breath, waiting. There it was, that miniature mechanical click in his breath where a hollow whir should have been. Lately the click had become louder, intensifying its strain when he took a blow near his chest. Bryan didn't know much about his body these days, but he knew the flicker in his breath should not be there. It made him angry, as most things did, but it was dull, tired anger. And anger that had been sparked so many times before that it bordered on an irritated depression. He knew that he was slipping, and he could not ignore the little changes that only reminded him of the fact. Lately his right arm threw small fits when he clutched his fingers, like short spasms, and his vision hazed over every so often. He took another breath and met the click again. He could feel it very slightly, fluttering in his chest, just under his ribcage. He closed his eyes for a moment and continued to walk down the alley. Just another pointless walk he took before the next day's fights in the tournament to pass the time. He rarely slept now, too fraught with his burning desire to train, fight, win, live. 

            He thought about the tournament, and what was being said. Lee (Or his façade Violet, who, despite the obviousness of his new identity, could hold no candle to the ludicrousy of Eddy's alter transvestite ego, Christie)  was pulling ahead quickly, while Hwoarang also flew through each match with ease. Bryan was not one to plan about these things, however. Lee could pack a powerful hit, but his weakness was that he took too long to recover. Hwoarang was remarkably quick and agile, someone who Bryan would have to beat fast or not at all. But his weakness was his pride, and if Bryan could allow him to think he held the upper hand, the tables could be turned quite easily. However, Bryan was not thinking about this. His nature was to stride in with tremendous force and take as many hits as he could sustain if need be. With another sigh, he stopped to examine his hand. There was a strand of red mucus on the back of it, probably from a previous battle. With a disgusted sneer, he flailed his hand with one quick jerk. When that didn't work, he grumbled and wiped it on the brick wall next to him. 

            "Hey!" cried a voice from behind him. "You up there."

            Bryan didn't turn around. It may have been another reporter or journalist, or just a fan.  

            "Hey, man, can't you see I'm talkin' to you?" the voice was getting louder and Bryan could hear the steps of his pursuer quicken. 

            Bryan inhaled and opened his mouth. Rarely did he speak, but it was either that or fight, and he wanted to conserve his energy. "Go away." He hissed as he continued on.

            "I'm not playin' around, bitch." Slurred the figure.

            Something in that tone made Bryan turn now with a renewed anger. He made a threatening glare and clenched his fist. 

            "Yeah, big boy, you heard me." The man was rather scrawny and lean, concealing a knife at his side. He couldn't have been over seventeen, another pathetic case of a boy making a living shaking down any victim he saw. "Now hand over what you got, or I'll gut your ass."

            Bryan's eyes rolled slightly to one side as he cracked his knuckles. He had given him fair warning, so anything now was justified. He stood and waited, staring at the thief with a menacing snort. 

            "So you think you can fuck around with me, huh?" the boy clutched his knife harder and lunged for him.      

            Bryan jumped back and struggled with his attacker to the right, gripping the blade of the knife his palm. With a little difficulty, he broke the blade from the handle and rammed his head into that of the mugger. "Shit!" he cried in agony, falling back and grabbing his head. Bryan drew back his fist and hurled a deadly match breaker punch into the boy's jaw, sending him flying onto his back a great distance away with a yelp and a gurgle. Lucky for him, he was dead instantly. 

            Bryan stopped and relaxed his stance for a minute, then walked over to ensure that he had indeed killed the other. The man lay most certainly dead, the jaw folding to the side and blood spilling from the broken teeth. Bryan shook his head and went to turn, when a certain gleam caught his eye. Turning back with his teeth bared and in a readied stance, he watched two golden eyes gazing at him with a wondrous stare. "Hm…" the figure said in a throaty, echoing tone.

            Bryan looked around, suddenly aware that there may be others. There were not. 

            The figure stepped out into a dim light, revealing the impenetrable armor of an easily recognized person. He was the ninja Yoshimitsu, one that Bryan had encountered in the third tournament. Although he knew that the space traveler would doubtfully attack him, he kept his guard. "Was that really a fair fight…?" Yoshimitsu's thick voice queried. 

            Bryan made no move to respond.

            "You were always the quiet one." The Manji leader nodded, careful not to make a sudden movement and set Fury off. "My name is-"

            "I remember…" Bryan said in a gruff tone. He never did speak loud, and so Yoshimitsu immediately quieted to hear him.

            The warrior shuffled his foot along the pavement, arms at his sides. "Okay." He replied. Bryan's stance shifted a little, putting a small amount of trust onto his acquaintance. Yoshimitsu remained silent for a while before striking the subject anew. "You'll fight me tomorrow…if, that is, you get past the other fighters."

            Bryan's stone expression flickered in anger once more, the same anger that tired him more and more. "Mm." He said in a small grunt of agreement, or perhaps just acknowledgement that he was listening. 

            "I've watched you since the beginning, Bryan. Since we were enemies." He continued, scratching the back of his head and looking over. "And I know what's going on."

            Bryan huffed and narrowed his eyes. 

            "Hai," he said sharply, "I know you're dying."

            Bryan snarled and decided to speak again. "Leave me." 

            Yoshimitsu thought for a minute and responded calmly, making a motion with his hand. "Go-issho ni irassharanai yo ni, Bryan." 

            Bryan twitched and watched Yoshimitsu with a flash in his eyes of his untamed rage. "I don't….speak Japanese…." He informed irately. 

            Yoshimitsu paused. "You don't? But…we're in Japan! You never took it upon yourself to learn any at all?" Yoshimitsu usually reverted back to his Japanese when he wasn't sure if he could speak an English sentence properly.

            "Leave me…the fuck alone." he growled. 

            Despite the fact that he was angering the infamous Bryan Fury, he was becoming surprisingly talkative now, and Yoshimitsu struggled to keep a conversation. "Come with me, Bryan." He said.  

            Bryan gave an incredulous grumbled, shocked that Yoshimitsu would think he would actually agree to follow him. "What?" he snapped.

            "We need your help. Dr. Bosckonivitch and I." He said. "We've been plan-"

            "I don't help." Bryan cut in. 

            The wasp warrior huffed a breath and folded his arms. "Well what's so special that you've got left?"

            Bryan growled and looked down, clenching his fists and hearing a mechanic groan from his right arm. His eyes flashed to Yoshimitsu's trailing green orbs and Bryan flailed his arms suddenly, making the Manji fighter spring back. "No. I want…Abel." 

            Yoshimitsu shook his head. "What makes you think he'll help you, Bryan?" he took a few steps closer and made a motion to Bryan's face. "Maybe he won't even remember you. Maybe he'll try and kill you."

            Bryan made a loud angry grunt that threatened to show a more psychotic personality. It was not hard to push him over the edge.

            "You have to listen to me." Yoshimitsu continued. "What choice do you have?" he received no response. "If you come with me now, tonight, I can-"

            "No." Bryan repeated, his breath heaving in fury. "I am going to win the tournament…" 

            Yoshimitsu was getting rather irritated by this point. "What good will that do you?" he asked. "If you win, do you think Abel will notice you? Do you think he'll want you back?" his tone became somewhat more sympathetic. "Do you think he'll care about you?"

            "If I own Zaibatsu, he'll have to help me!" he yelled, shaking a fist and kicking the cement below him. "I will _own_ him!"

            "Like he owned you?" Yoshimistsu raised his voice and thrust his head forward, leaving another smoky green trail from his eyes. "That's what it comes to Bryan, doesn't it? You want _revenge_!"  

            "I want to _live_!" Bryan yelled and slammed his fist into Yoshimitsu's stomach, sending him backwards a few steps. He was, however, wearing a bit too much armor for the punch to have the effect Bryan could've hoped for, and he retaliated with a high knee to Bryan's chest. He fell back and almost lost balance, but his unstoppable rage took over and he dove full force for his antagonist. He tackled Yoshimitsu and tried desperately to knock him down, but the other was good at shifting his weight. But Yoshimitsu was surprised, and almost fell a number of times. When he saw an opportunity, he worked his elbow backward and caught Bryan in the jaw, turning him away for a moment. While indisposed, he grabbed Bryan's arm and turned him around, quickly wrapping one arm around his neck while the other drew his sword and grazed the skin just under his throat. If Bryan moved, he could be decapitated, so he froze. 

            "I'm trying to help you!" Yoshimitsu insisted. 

            Bryan's teeth chattered with an uncontrollable anger as he held the arm around his neck, but he could not pull it away. He could feel himself seething with insanity anew. His eyes watered and his nose was running, not to mention that his teeth were clenched so hard he could hear the pressure. He attempted to jerk away from the blade in enraged spasms, but to no avail. 

            "How does it feel to be helpless, Bryan?" Yoshimitsu said piteously. "Gojoppari! There is nothing you can do! You've never felt this way before, have you? You've never been at the other end!" 

            With an unfathomable feat of adrenaline, Bryan dug his fingers into Yoshimitsu's arm and found a grip. Pulling it away, he cried out with a roar and hurled Yoshimitsu across the alley onto his back. Mortified, Yoshimitsu battled the earth for his feet again. But Bryan was already quickly approaching, watching as the warrior scrabbled desperately on the ground. "No, no, no! Bryan, listen to me!" he pleaded. Just as he came, Yoshimitsu's hand found his sword at that moment and his hand clutched around the handle, bringing it up. In a dash of panic, he rose and rammed the butt of his sword with all his might into Bryan's stomach, flinging himself to the side simultaneously. He was immediately behind Bryan now, his sword drawn in case he was not subdued. 

            As soon as Bryan felt the crashing pain in his stomach, he lurched forward with a grunt, stunned. He fell to his knees, one hand to his injured stomach and the other on the ground to support him. With a rumble in his chest, he felt the burning sensation of acid in his throat, and expelled a soupy string of vomit and mucus onto his hands and knees. 

            Yoshimitsu let his guard down slightly and dropped his shoulders in relief. "You can't keep fighting, Bryan…" he panted. 

            Bryan turned his head slightly with a wince, anger diminishing after a moment.

            "There will come a time…when fighting…isn't enough anymore…don't you see that?" he sheathed his sword and rubbed his bruised shoulder. "I'm the only chance you have. You told me you didn't want to die, so don't!" he reached out his hands in a gesture of explanation. "You can't trust Abel. He'll tear you apart and use what he can…"

            Bryan closed his eyes and spat once more. "Why…should I trust…you?"

            "You come to me, Bryan, when you see why…" he shook his head and gave one more sigh of sympathy before flickering out his wings and taking off in a flurry of a burst. Bryan watched him go and slowly rose to his feet, looking at his scratched up hands. With another breath he drew, that mechanical click was much louder. Dropping his hands, he continued to trudge back down the alley.


	2. Hwoarang Mojo

Hwoarang rolled his neck around and shook his shoulders before sizing up his opponent. His name was Lei, a bumbling fool of a cop who enjoyed chasing down Fury when he could. Surprisingly, Lei had actually gotten rather far into the tournament, and held a rather annoying little smirk for his challenger at the moment. "You can take him." Said Miharu, whom he had befriended earlier in the tournament. She had been beaten quickly, mostly because she had merely entered it on recommendation from her friend, Ling Xaiyou. It was clear that Ling, who had advised Miharu to stay away from Hwoarang, being Jin's rival, possessed a greater amount of experience. "He's goes to the ground a lot." She advised. Miharu had taken quite an interest in the fighting skills of the players now that she really had nothing better to do. 

            Hwoarang dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "I've taken out my fair share of cops." He grinned. 

            "Well, be careful." She said. "He did beat me." She added with a pout.

            "Yeah, I'll get him back for you." He shoved her by the shoulder with a chuckle and perked upon hearing his name called over the speaker. 

            "Hwoarang and Lei Wulong, please make your way to the arena." Called the announcer.

            "That's my cue." Hwoarang said, scurrying to the arena floor. 

            Lei nodded to Hwoarang with an obvious mock respect. He held no appreciation for him, knowing of his criminal record. Lei secretly hoped the little street thief would falter and give him a reason to bring him in. Hwoarang returned a nod with a large smile and promptly extended his middle finger. Rather than a smirk, Lei's mouth lay agape, but he quickly shut it and scowled. 

            "Round one…" the announcer informed. An excited hush seized the crowd as their eyes latched onto the two fighters in the ring. "Fight!" 

            Lei backed up, taunting Hwoarang by beckoning him. Hwoarang shrugged and charged, bringing his foot towards Lei's face. Lei, however, anticipated Hwoarang's eagerness and dropped to the ground with intent to trip him, But against both of their better wishes, Hwoarang shifted awkwardly in surprise and tried to reel back. Lei reached out and tripped the redhead, just as he had planned, but Hwoarang fell forward instead, and on top of Lei with a yelp of confused shock. This sent the crowd into the delirious fit of laughter, ridiculing both fighters. Lei struggled and pushed Hwoarang off of him, who rolled back to his feet in an instant and leapt away. Lei stood up and yelled a string of nonsense. "No more fooling around!" he said, hunching over and baring his fists. "Let's go!"

            Hwoarang watched as Lei ran to tackle him in a blind fit of anger. He quickly hopped up onto one foot and lifted the other in a flamingo position, and when Lei arrived, he received two kicks to the face, back and forth in a furious flutter of Hwoarang's leg. He clutched his face and fell back, setting free a trickle of blood from his nose when he took them away. He wiped it away gruffly and charged forward again. This time, Hwoarang jumped forward twice and threw one foot through Lei's stomach, sending himself directly behind Lei. Before Lei could turn, Hwoarang grabbed his braid and wrapped it around his fist, provoking another laugh from the audience. He pulled Wulong's head back and straightened one leg in front of him, foot on his back. In this position, he pulled Lei into a particularly nasty jackknife and spilled him on the ground behind him. Lei let out a dazed groan and tried to get to his feet, but he did not get up in time and his Korean adversary brought his foot up and sliced his heel into the face below him. Lei flailed for a moment and lay still. 

            "Hwoarang wins!" the announcer cried. The crowd cheered as Hwoarang threw up one fist in victory and waved to them enthusiastically. 

            "Bout two in five minutes." There was a static muffle and the speaker shut off.

            Hwoarang went back to the sidelines, strutting proudly. "Piece of cake." 

            Miharu clapped excitedly. "Wow! He didn't stand a chance!" 

            "Good match, Hwoarang." Said a voice from behind. Julia approached the two from behind. "Miharu, you're still here." She smiled.

            "Yep! Maybe I didn't win, but I've got that fighting spirit." She flashed a thumbs up.

            "Hey, Julia." Hwoarang said, still feeling bad that he had beaten her the day before. Beating people senseless was loads of fun, but when they were as grudgeless and her, it was a little disappointing. "How's the arm?"

            "It's okay." She said, pointing to her bandaged arm. "Just bruised it." 

            Miharu reached up and yanked on one of the spikes of his short red hair. "Ow, hey!" he rubbed his head.

            "Enough socializing, already!" she snapped. "You're _supposed_ to be concentrating on your opponent!"  

            He stuck his tongue out at her and looked over at Lei. The bridge of his nose was turning purple, as well as his right cheek as he shot a menacing glare towards Hwoarang and shook his fist. The three laughed and imitated Lei, which made him all the more enraged.

            "Come on, Hwoarang, get out there and show him what for!" Miharu encouraged, shoving him back out into the ring. He waved to Julia and Miharu and turned back to Lei with both fists raised. Lei walked back in with an ugly snarl.

            "Round two…" the announcer began. Once more, the crowd's chatter disappeared. "Fight!" 

            Hwoarang started circling Lei quickly, determined to win this round faster than the last. He knew himself to be infamous for his speed. Lei had a new tactic, however. "Come on, street punk!" he insulted. "Let's hurry this up and I'll dish out the charges." 

            Hwoarang rolled his eyes and stopped circling. If he didn't make the first move, they would probably be standing there for hours, so he ran towards Lei and ducked down. But Lei dodged, kicking Hwoarang in the back as he passed. He barely caught his balance before Lei kicked him again and sent him down. Lei was about to make another move, but Hwoarang flipped onto his back and kicked upwards into Lei's stomach. Lei painfully fell over as Hwoarang stood. Before Hwoarang was up, Lei snatched his ankle and brought him back down, crawling on top of him. Lei pinned his arms down with his knees and raised a fist to pummel the struggling Hwoarang. He looked up with a growl and snorted. "Get offa me! I don't swing that way!"

            "Than try this swing!" Lei hurled his fist to Hwoarang's face, but he managed to wriggle an arm free and catch the punch. As he pushed back, he also freed his other arm and knocked Lei in the jaw with it, frantically throwing himself to his feet and jumping back.

            Lei stood and stared Hwoarang down for a moment before backing off also and beckoning him again. Once more Hwoarang was stuck in a circle of stalking that could take forever if he didn't do something, and he wanted to win fast. He charged Lei again, seeing it as an option. Lei smirked; all he would have to do is dodge the blow and hit his enemy while he was recovering. But Hwoarang had quite obviously learned that Lei was expecting him to charge full force, and so the very second before he would've hit him, he stopped dead in the middle of his run, pulled his fist back, and punched Lei right in the nose, knocking him out cold. 

            "Hwoarang is the winner!" the announcer shouted. 

            "Yeah!" cried Miharu, running up and meeting Hwoarang with a high-five. "You outsmarted him!"

            "'Course I did." He said proudly. 

            "Congratulations!" said Julia with a small, almost undetectable hint of unhappiness in her voice.

            Hwoarang grumbled to himself and scratched his head. "Yeah, well…Look, I feel pretty bad about beating you. I know you were…looking for your mom." 

            Julia looked up, shocked. "How did you know?"

            "Word gets around." He shrugged. "Um…look, I was thinking that if I win the tournament, I'll do whatever I can to help you find her." He didn't like the way niceness tasted on his tongue. 

            "Really?" her face lit up like a child. "And you'll help me restore my homeland?"

            Hwoarang swallowed. "Hey, let's not go crazy here." 

            "Thank you. I'm sure you'll win!" she clapped her hands together.

            "It's just too bad Kazama wasn't here." He clenched his fist. "Now there was a _real_ fight."

            "A little too real." Miharu said. "Ling said that he won the third tournament."

            "Yeah. That's why I was hoping he was here…guess he chickened out, though." He folded his arms. 

            "Well, I wouldn't be so worried about Jin if I were you." Julia said, turning Hwoarang towards two other fighters a distance off. They were Yoshimitsu and Bryan, standing off to the side, seemingly oblivious to each other.

            "Huh, don't look so tough." Hwoarang said haughtily. 

            "They battle next. You'll have to fight whoever wins." Miharu informed. 

            "I hope Yoshimitsu wins…" Julia said. "He beat me in the last tournament, and was surprisingly quite the gentleman." 

            Hwoarang raised an eyebrow, finding it hard to believe that this armored, clawed skeleton could be a 'gentleman'. 

            "Bryan's a killer." Julia continued. "Those that he beat still have the scars. He came down on Eddy really hard in King of the Iron Fist 3. I guess that's why he didn't come back this time."

            "What are you talking about, he's over there." Said Miharu, pointing with a thumb over her shoulder to Christie, who was waving to the cameras. 

            They all stared for a moment before turning back. "So anyway, you don't want to fight Bryan Fury." Julia said, glancing over at the man in question.

            "He looks a little nuts, huh?" Hwoarang stared at Bryan wonderously, studying him and looking for a weakness.

            Bryan leaned against the wall, watching the crowd talk excitedly of the fights to come. A hardly visible smirk touched his face for a moment as he saw Lei gingerly touching his bloody and battered face with a washcloth. Looking for the winner, he spotted Hwoarang a few yards away. Once he met eyes with Bryan, he just stared like a deer caught in headlights. Bryan shook his head and looked over towards the green mist in the crowd, narrowing his eyes at Yoshimitsu and clenching his fist. He would win, and prove to himself and everyone that he was worthy of life.


	3. Broken Bones

Yoshimitsu eyed Bryan as he stepped out onto the fighting grounds. He looked haggardly and restless, but alert and sharp as always. He stared right through Yoshimitsu as if he were not there. He must have been concentrating on something else, as could well be imagined. The Manji alien drew his sword and met Bryan a few feet away, nodding with a sad determination to win. He didn't really want to hurt Bryan; he knew his body was falling apart as it was. But this was his only option now. 

            "Yoshimitsu and Bryan Fury, please enter the fighting arena." The announcer called.

            To Yoshimitsu's surprise, Bryan jumped like a scared rabbit at the sound of the overbearing voice, almost as if it were God himself coming down on him. Sadly, it became clear now that Bryan was losing it. His nerves were wracked and his body was wearing down, and he would not let anyone help him.

            Hwoarang watched from the sidelines, watching Bryan curiously before turning to his two friends. "Come on, guys, lunch is on Hwoarang, winner of the Zaibatsu fortune!" he declared smugly, despite the fact that the very last reason he had joined the tournament was the money.

            "Free food!" cheered Miharu.

            "But…don't you want to stay and watch the fight?" Julia inquired. "To study your next opponent."

            Hwoarang opened his mouth, about to say something before he was interrupted by Miharu. "Aw, come on. You beat Lei in a snap and you've never watched him. Aren'tcha hungry?" she smacked Hwoarang's stomach.

            He grunted and guarded his abdomen protectively. "I don't know, maybe Julia's right."

            "You've seen both of them fight before! How hard can it be?" she said, looking over at a nearby café. "We can just go over there."

            "I guess." Hwoarang caved, motioning for them to go.

            Bryan swallowed dryly, cracking his knuckles as he stood in the middle of the arena. He was going to fight Yoshimitsu, and he was going to win. 

            "Round one…" the announcer started. "Fight!"

            Despite the cheering of the crowd, there was a calm rush over both fighters. They stared at each other for a long while thinking a million things at once. With a sigh, Yoshimitsu finally initiated the first step, turning his sword horizontally in front of him. Bryan assumed he would attack after this, but instead he hesitated, about to say something. "…I want you to know, Bryan…before and even after this is over…not all hope is lost." 

            He looked down, than up into Yoshimitsu's gleaming eyes with a snarl. And so the fight began. Bryan led himself in a circle with his left foot, one behind the other over and over. Yoshimitsu, however, did not move. Instead he turned his head to watch his enemy while carefully studying the options he had. "I LOVE YOU, YOSHIMITSU!!" shrieked a girl from the onlookers. 

            Yoshimitsu struggled to suppress a laugh, but could not, and Bryan looked at him as though he were insane. And then at the girl as if she were insane. But Yoshimitsu's train of thought was broken now, bringing a great opportunity. Bryan spun around and swung his elbow backwards into Yoshimitsu's head, throwing him forward into the cement. The crowd gasped in astonishment, watching as Yoshimitsu gathered himself painfully off the ground. "Alright, Fury, point taken." He said, gripping his sword tightly. He then unexpectedly turned around, his back to Bryan. This confused him so greatly that he merely stood there with his fists raised. Yoshimitsu held his sword low on the handle, pumping it up and down in a meditating stance. In one sudden explosion, Yoshimitsu flipped backwards, hitting Bryan in the head and flipping again. Bryan instantaneously rolled backwards, looking frantically back at his foe as he shook of the daze of the hit. 

            Yoshimitsu sprung again, striking Bryan in the chin with his fist and again in the cheek with his other. It very quickly became clear to Bryan that this fight was not going to be won easily. He pulled himself up from the ground, sending a deadly uppercut into his challenger, who practically folded in half around his fist and fell to the ground with a cry of hurt. While lying on his stomach, he placed his hands on the ground and used his wings to push himself into a handstand, upon which he kicked Bryan in the face twice. Before Bryan could recover, Yoshimitsu flipped to his feet and kicked his sword from the ground to his hand. 

            Bryan shook away the pain and tried desperately to regain the vision in his left eye. Yoshimitsu sat on the ground to dodge Bryan's outward, random punch, and twirled around, pouncing at him and sending him flying towards the edge of the crowd, where he lay still. His vision was completely gone now. He tenderly reached to feel his face, and his head buzzed as he did so, ensuring him that he would now lose. Yoshimitsu was wrong…there was no hope left. Now he would die, die alone and no one would even remember, for as far as they were concerned, he was merely a robot. He was, in all aspects, dead already, and had been for quite some time. Another project. But Bryan bled inside like anyone, and he was still alive, by whatever means. He was _still alive_. 

            Bryan suddenly wrenched his body forward as a mechanic scream roared in his head. It stung so terribly that tears dripped from his eyes, mixed with hot blood and a horrendous shudder. The color dripped back into Bryan's world like a fountain of life, forcing him to see anything and everything. Yoshimitsu was across from him, looking down sadly and still sure that he had just beaten Bryan for good. The android could feel another swift rise of rage within him.

            He was suddenly up, bursting towards Yoshimitsu, fists flying. Yoshimitsu looked up just in time to see a flurry of motion before he was knocked flat. He lay on the ground, dizzy and watching the world spin before him. 

            "Bryan Fury wins." A loud voice stated.

            Yoshimitsu's eyes were wide with shock. Bryan had come back to win the first round, and now stood a chance for winning the tournament altogether. The only opponents he would have to beat were Hwoarang, Lee, and Heihachi if Yoshimitsu fell. But when Yoshimitsu sat up, his shoulders dropped at the pitiful sight of Bryan Fury. His arm was shaking riotously and his eyes were bleeding in thick streams, dribbling down his chin and slightly tainting his silver hair. He stood hunched over, gritting his teeth and beginning to show bruises on his paling skin. He could not go on much further, that was obvious. It was possible for a good night's rest to heal a fighter as much as he needed for the next day, but there were parts of Bryan's body that could not heal over any span of time. Most of his right arm and left lung were composed of metal and wire, and also various other parts of his mangled figure. The Manji leader looked down, unable to watch this broken creature before him any longer.

            But inside, Bryan felt the fire of determination again. He could not lose now. After Yoshimitsu, he had but three obstacles left, all of which he would destroy immediately. One more round…if he could endure one more round, he could save himself.

            "Bout two in five minutes."

Author's notes: First off, I'd like to make a recommendation for ya'll to read a story called 'Light and Dark' by Ikhan11, okay? ^_^ It's a very good story, and if you like mine, you love this one. 

Second of all, some of you are probably saying, "Hey! Isn't this a Bryan story? Where does Hwoarang come in?" Well, in answer to that, Hwoarang plays a relatively important role here, not to mention the fact that he's another of my best fighters and fav. Chars. So is Law, but he's not in this story. Anyhoo…we like Hwo, though, right? Next, I'll apologize for knocking Lei around…but I HATE Lei. Sorry! And juuuuuuust in case there's someone out there who doesn't know, Miharu is not my character, she is Ling's friend in Tekken 4. I'm sure most of you know that, though. Thanks, just thought I'd say some stuff. Next chapter, round two of the battle… 


	4. Little Less Conversation, Little More Ac...

Sorry, this chapter took a little longer because A: it's a long chapter, and B: I've been pretty sick lately. I only write at night…because that's when I'm supposed to be sleeping, so it's the only free time I've got. Well, enough of my rambling, on with the show.

Bryan went back to the corner of the wall that he had chosen as his sanctuary for in between rounds. He was so tired, but his nerves kept him awake and worrying. He couldn't sleep if it were an option, anyway. He no longer took walks, however, avoiding another irritating encounter with Yoshimitsu. Bryan merely sat in his tournament provided hotel room and watched television, despite the fact that he didn't really pay any attention to what was happening on screen. Sometimes he just grew tired of the silence. He then decided to quit that habit when a Robocop marathon ran on two of the five channels he was given. Something about that movie disturbed him.

            Spitting a mouthful of blood beside him, he took a cloth and wiped his face roughly. It hurt, but he hardly cared about the minor pains any more. 

            Meanwhile, Yoshimitsu sat and let his vision blur, trying to meditate his pain away in an age-old technique. The more he sat, the better he felt physically, and the worse he felt psychologically. Here he was with his natural organic mending abilities, while Bryan sat malfunctioning across from him. 

            "Round two! Yoshimitsu and Bryan Fury please re-enter the ring." The announcer requested. 

            Bryan wheezed as he stood again and his vision momentarily blacked out once more. That buzzing in his head whirred angrily, threatening him to either rest or it would gain in volume. But as loud as it was, it wasn't as loud as a voice in the back of his mind that insisted he was stronger than this, and that was what he listened to. That voice he didn't know. He could only assume it was part of his former self, someone who he barely thought he recalled. When he awoke, he found himself mangled in a body he remembered from somewhere. The name Bryan Fury was an unfamiliar one. He remembered cold hands on his flesh, and his blind panic in the small laboratory room, after which he was immediately sedated. As far as he could remember now, if he did not keep himself going, no one else would. He shook away his thoughts and met Yoshimitsu on the arena once again. 

            Yoshimitsu gave a gruff nod and drew his green saber. Bryan kept his distance, planning on showing the pompous warrior what he could really do when he was set off. His vision was considerably darker than when he had started this match, his head knocked around as much as it was. But all he needed to follow were those green orbs of light ahead of him. 

            "Fight!"

            Bryan clenched his fists and charged towards his enemy, who was bracing himself stiffly. Bryan feigned a head-butt, but instead threw himself to the ground and slid into Yoshimitsu on his back, leaving both of them lying there. Bryan came back up quick, crouching down and spinning an outward leg in a vicious wolf's tail that caused the astonished Yoshimitsu to topple again a few feet away. As Bryan charged forward once more, the Manji fighter hopped up and turned to his right, ready to break into a series of stone fists. Bryan came at him with one arm raised, and caught the first hit that came at him, barreling all his weight into Yoshimitsu and sending him down again.

            Yoshimitsu was, needless to say, utterly horrified at Bryan's newfound strength, and in a frenzied movement, he made a grab for his attacker's leg. But Bryan found the arm and stepped on it harshly, eliciting a cry from Yoshimitsu. He reached forward and seized the leg that crushed his arm with his other hand, and succeeded in dragging Bryan to the ground with him. He wavered for a moment before coming crashing down upon the cement like a ton of bricks. He let out an angry howl and tried to roll over, but Yoshimitsu still held onto his ankle, now on his knees and pulling Bryan towards him. The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion for Bryan. He looked up at the other combatant and saw him raising his sword with one hand. He looked over to his left to see the excited and anxious members of the crowd, some cheering for Bryan, but most for Yoshimitsu. He looked down to see the blood stains on the ground, and forward to see the blood stains on his opponent. And he looked right to see his own fist hurtling at the skeletal man's face, almost against his own volition. It connected with a clang, and wracked Yoshimitsu's head to his right and back. He was forced off of his victim from the lightheaded state.

            Bryan pulled himself up, still moving slowly from his point of view, and yet with an unfathomable speed. His body was a blur of flesh and cloth as he pulled up and grabbed Yoshimitsu by the shoulders, bashing his own head against his enemy's. Even through the helmet, Yoshimitsu felt the powerful crunch of Bryan's rock hard skull against his own. But even before he could sink to the ground, Bryan wrapped his arm around Yoshimitsu's neck from behind and swung him an amazing distance away. The crowd screamed and dispersed as they observed Yoshimitsu flying towards them at top speed. Fortunately, he hit no one, but he collided with the wall and slid down, defeated and horrified that Bryan had won so quickly. 

            Bryan's teeth chattered along with the pulsating pain in his head as he stared at the downed insect man. Unsteadily making his way back to his corner, he grasped his head in pain at the loud voice above him. "Bryan Fury…has won!" the announcer sounded surprised, and that angered Bryan.

            Yoshimitsu remained on the ground, showing a dead gaze in his eyes. He didn't bother moving. "My God…" he whispered. "I could not defeat him…"

            Hwoarang stuffed a cookie in his mouth as he looked up at the television screen. It was turned to a boxing channel, but no one was watching it, rather they were gathered at the window with their coffee. 

            "Take it easy on the cookies, Hwoarang!" scolded Miharu. "They'll slow you down tomorrow."

            "Nrr they wom't." he snorted, sucking his Coke down.

            "Yeah, fine, don't listen to me." Miharu folded her arms and sulked.

            Julia drank some of her coffee and stirred her soup absently. "Thanks for lunch, Hwoarang." She said. 

            "Yeah, don't mention it." He responded, glaring at the group of people that were staring at him. "What?" he snapped.

            "Ah, come on, they're just fans!" Miharu shoved him. "Don't be so standoffish, people'll start to dislike you."

            "I don't care." He said, resting his head on the table. "I'm not doing it for _them_."

            "Well, you should. People love to watch you fight!" she continued.

            "Well so what? I don't watch them, they should leave me alone." He stated.

            "You have to be fighting for someone other than yourself." Julia insisted suddenly.

            "Yeah, why?" he looked up. "So I can be one of those humanitarian fighters like Yoshimitsu? 'Oh, I think I shall like to win that fortune for all of the little Manji orphans!'" he mocked, batting his eyelashes. 

            Miharu giggled, but Julia was slightly less impressed. "That's not funny. He's one of the most respectable fighters in this tournament."

            Hwoarang rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm just not into that stuff. People have enough problem's of their own without having to worry about everyone else."

            "I think you should fight for the people you love." Julia retorted. "Law's fighting for his son and his restaurant. Lee's fighting to fund a project that could help thousands of people."

            "Spare me." Hwoarang grumbled. "You expect me to believe that those guys don't have ulterior motives? Law's an old crackpot who's pretty much lost it all and hold onto the end of his rope by the skin of his teeth. Lee's an old psycho who mysteriously never ages, and probably wants to use this 'project' we've heard about to rule the world."

            Julia shook her head. "Even you. What are you fighting for?"

            Hwoarang sighed and looked out the window tiredly. "The money, I guess."

            "I don't think so." She prodded. "Not someone like you."

            "Someone like me." He chortled. "Right. Well…I like to fight…okay?" he shrugged. 

            "Hmph." She smirked, poking a piece of chicken in her soup. 

            "Good lord!" cried a man in the Café. The three fighters immediately looked over to the source of a newfound commotion. The people suddenly began to rush out of the small establishment. Miharu grabbed her two friends and bolted outside as well, dragging them along. As the three looked up from the crowd in the darkening night, they saw on the large screen the face of Bryan Fury. A flashing little sign read 'winner' at the bottom. Miharu gasped, and Julia grabbed Hwoarang's arm.

            "Oh no…" Julia squeaked. "He won…"

            Hwoarang swallowed hard and peered through the crowd at the bloody mess of a android. "Don't worry…" he assured nervously. "Part of me…kinda expected him to."


	5. Refreshments, Anyone?

"Fury? Fury, you okay?" 

            Bryan felt a hand clamped on his shoulder as his eyes flashed open. As he lifted his bleeding face to meet his acquaintance, he saw the curious Chinese chef, Law. Immediately, he shoved the hand away. 

            Law frowned and stood, folding his arms. "Sooorry. Yeesh, just thought you looked a little…" 

            "Go away." Bryan hissed tiredly, hauling himself to his feet. 

            "Well come on, they've got refreshments for the fighters out back." He motioned with his thumb. 

            Bryan glowered at Law and wiped the sweat off of his brow with the back of his hand. "You lost…" he whispered gruffly. 

            "Lost? Lost? Why I oughtta…" Law fumed, recalling the previous few days where he had been beaten by Hwoarang. He quickly thought better of it and looked away stubbornly. "Yeah? So what? After the fight, I tasted their damn food and lost it all over the head chef, if you can call him that." He chortled.

            Bryan had watched that fight. He knew that the food wasn't what made Law sick, it was the powerful kick he had received in his stomach. He chose not to say anything, however. 

            "So anyhow, I decided I would run this show from here on out. Got nothin' much else these days. See, take these egg rolls fro example. Now you can't just go adding sauces and seasonings wherever the hell you want, you gotta have the know-how. I personally like to use just a…a little…" he faded out disappointedly as he realized that Bryan was not listening. "Okay, so I can see you're a man of few words." 

            Bryan would have left, but he was hungry, and this food was free of charge. Besides, it wasn't as though he had an ocean of money waiting for him back at the confines of his hotel. Picking up a cup of water, he drank it dizzily and went for another, stopping as he realized that Lei was reaching for the same cup.

            Lei seethed for a moment, wincing at the pain in his nose, which was now covered with a large bandage. "What's the matter, Fury? Thirsty?" he smirked, picking up the water and splashing it in Bryan's face. He didn't even blink, carelessly letting the water drip down his face. All it really succeeded in doing was washing the blood away. 

            "Back off, Wulong." Sneered Law. "And go fix your face."

            Lei gritted his teeth and grunted, glaring at Law as if he were some kind of parasitic infestation. "Your cooking tastes like shit, you know. I'd send the health inspector to that little 'resturaunt' of yours…but…" he chuckled.

            Law clenched his fists, surprised and angry that news of his failure had gotten out into the tournament. "You're lucky that kid beat me, or you wouldn't be standing after a fight with me." 

            "Hm." He snorted. "Really? And where's that kid of yours? Didn't have the guts to show up?"

            Law snapped and grabbed Lei by the shirt shaking him as he raged a splurge of furious words. "Listen you son of a bitch, you leave Forest ou-" 

            "Hey! No fighting outside the tournament, break it up!" yelled one of the many armed guards that patrolled the area, ensuring this very thing did not happen. 

            Law stared at the guard with a snarl and dropped Lei, who grinned and walked back into the crowd. Law shook his head and sighed. "Beaten by a nineteen year old kid and he still has that smug…cowardly little…" he kicked the ground.

            Bryan watched him and nodded slowly.

            "Well, I've got things to do." Law shrugged. "Here, try it. My special recepie." He shoved an egg roll at Bryan, who grudgingly accepted it. As Law merged back into the mass of people. Bryan scanned the rest of the people around the bloody outside fighting arena, but Yoshimitsu had vanished. He swallowed his egg roll and rabbed his temples idly. 

            "Too damn spicy…" he grumbled before languidly making his way towards his hotel. 

Author's Note: So sue me, I had to add Law! Sorry, but he's one of MY favorites and this is MY story, so there. _ Actually, this chapter was created to A: Slightly lighten the nervous air B: So some personallity of the other characters outside of the tournament, and C: It was a way of getting through writer's block before Hwoarang and Bryan's match. Sorry if you don't like it, but no one's holding a gun to your head. Sorry, I'm not trying to come off so bitter, I just…AM bitter. ^_~


	6. Twas the Night Before, Oh, Let's Say Tue...

Miharu yawned and stretched, eyeing the streets outside the window. The three had gone back to Hwoarang's hotel room to talk for a while after the tournament, but it was getting rather late. Miharu could still see the excited crowd members on the street, pointing to the bloodstains and talking about the next day to come. "Isn't it great to think we were part of this tournament? People love this kind of thing."

            Julia shrugged and gazed out the window as well. "I suppose. But it's so violent."

            "Well, sometimes you have to fight for what you want. So you might as well have some fun while you're kicking butt!" Miharu exclaimed.

            Julia laughed and tried to quiet her friend, pointing to Hwoarang, who was resting his head in his arms on the small table, asleep. "Fighting really burns you out, though."

            Miharu looked at Hwoarang and rolled her eyes. "What a lunk head. He could sleep through a meteor shower."

            "How would you know?" Julia asked, raising an eyebrow.

            Miharu grinned innocently. "I've been kicking him in the shin for the past ten minutes, he hasn't done a thing." 

            "Miharu!" Julia scolded, trying not to laugh. 

            "Mmph…" Hwoarang murmured and shifted his shoulders. 

            "We should go." Julia advised. "He needs to sleep if he's going to fight tomorrow."

            Miharu nodded and stood as well, patting him on the head as she headed to the door. 

            "Miharu…" Julia scratched her head nervously. 

            "What is it?" she asked, turning back.

            "Do you…think Hwoarang can beat Bryan?" she shifted her weight onto her other leg. "I mean…sure he's a good fighter…but he's, well, younger than Bryan, and cockier than all of us."

            "So? Did you see Bryan when he finished that last fight? He looked ready to go to pieces." She assured.

            "People get hurt really bad in these tournaments. People are _killed_ in these kind of things." She bit her lip, thinking that she was almost thankful that she had not progressed further in the contest. But she quickly became disappointed in herself for thinking that. After all, how could she think of something so selfish when her mother's life was in danger and her home was in such ruins?

            "You worry too much. Sure, some bad luck happens along the way. A few broken bones, it's nothing he can't handle." Miharu looked at her watch.

            "I hope you're right…I don't want to see him torn apart. I've…seen that happen before." She admitted.

            "Look," Miharu said, putting her hand on Julia's shoulder. "You really don't have to worry about Hwoarang. He's lost before, and he's been fine." 

            "But he lost to Jin." Julia pointed out. "Jin's a nice guy, he wouldn't hurt him. But…but Bryan's different. Like he could snap at any minute, and he might. I don't know…" she adjusted her glasses and glanced back at Hwoarang. "You think he's as worried as I am?"

            "Nope." Miharu answered simply. "He doesn't worry about fighting. You know…Hwoarang grew up on the streets where he had to fight and kill every day. He doesn't fight because he wants to…he fights because he feels like he has to. Even now. At least that's what I think. But he manages to land on his feet. He's made it this far, right?"

            Julia nodded. "I guess you're right, Miharu. But there's still something about that Bryan that really scares me."

            "He's just like that. Besides…doesn't look like he has much longer anyway." She said. They both paused for a long while. "Well…goodnight, Julia. I better get going."

            "Goodnight." She replied, watching as Miharu exited the scene. She walked slowly over to the couch and retrieved a blanket, wrapping it around Hwoarang's shoulders. "Goodnight, you arrogant little punk." She chuckled, turning off the lights as she left the room. 

            Hwoarang looked up in a drowsy state and squinted at the clock. 12:45. "…Julia…?" 

            But Julia didn't hear him, for she was already on the other side of the door by this point. Tiredly, he groaned and laid his head back down on the glass table.

Author's Note: Okay, I have to apologize for this chapter. Just a stupid little cutesy scene, but there will be more Bryan in the next chapters. Like I said, I'm still kind of working on random chapters here to get through writer's block…*Curses the writer's block* I am so tired. Happy Holidays, guys. 


End file.
